


Prospective WidowEmiLena ABO Cuckolding Fic

by PrivateFluff (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Creampie, Cuckolding, Cuckquean, Cum Play, Exhibitionism, F/F, Girl Penis, Kink Negotiation, Knotting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Vouyerism, consensual cuckolding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/PrivateFluff
Summary: I'll fill this in later, this is mostly a self-indulgent smutt fic.
Relationships: Emily/Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Emily/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	Prospective WidowEmiLena ABO Cuckolding Fic

"I must admit, cherie, I am curious as to why you would call on me this way." Widowmaker tapped the toe of her shoe against the stem of the table and swirled her coffee in its cup. 

"I was gettin' to that," Tracer mumbled in response, clasping her tea in both hands and staring down at the murky black liquid. The faintest tinge of a blush adorned her cheeks. This was not exactly an ordinary situation for a girl like herself to find herself in.

Widowmaker curled her lips into a smile. "Then go on. I am listening."

Tracer gulped slightly, and then brought ger teacup to her lips and downed the remainder of the liquid, and then set the teacup down before clenching her fists and looking Widowmaker in the eye.

"Emily wants to see you again. And so do I."

Widowmaker's smile broadened and something evil sparkled in her eye. "Ah, so that is it then." Widow leaned back in her chair and looked around the cafe. It was sparse with people, but she felt it might be better if they weren't overhead. "Perhaps it would be best to resume this conversation somewhere more… private."

"Private?"

"My car will do." Widowmaker stood up and gestured to the door. Tracer hastily stood to join her, and together they exited the premises.

* * *

"So, am I to understand this is a negotiation then?"

Widowmaker and Tracer sat opposite one another in the backseat of Widow's limousine. The taller woman was staring down her nose at the other, legs crossed, while the shorter sat with her hands clamped over her knees, staring directly at the floor.

"I guess you could say that."

"You are not happy to be here making them," Widow observed. Tracer grimaced and shook her head and Widow chuckled softly. "Very well. Tell me, what is this all about?"

Tracer took a moment to prepare herself, and then a deep breath. "Emily would like you to come back this weekend. So we can do what we did last weekend. And if it goes well, she'd like you to keep coming back."

“And it is only her who wants this?” Widow raised an eyebrow and rested her chin against the heel of her palm. Tracer bit her lip and looked up at Widow, the corners of her mouth curling down.

“No.”

Widow raised her other eyebrow and her grin broadened. “Elaborate.”

Tracer’s cheeks were tomato red, and she exhaled deeply before speaking. “I’ve never seen Em like that… like how she was when you… well… look, I’ve never been the most domineering alpha to ‘er.”

“Some omegas prefer their mates to ‘ave a gentle touch.”

“Look, you don’t ‘ave to be polite love. I don't think Em's ever had a fuck like you… frankly I don't think anyone has."

Widow chuckled softly but otherwise remained silent. 

"I love her with all my heart, and I want her to have a good time… and I wanna have a good time."

"So you are asking for another alpha to come into your home, dominate you and breed your wife?" The expression on Widow's face could only be described as fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Tracer cast her eyes down and nodded.

"That's about the size of it love, yeah."

Widow leaned forward and clasped her hands. "Very well. Let's… negotiate."

* * *

The rules were as follows:

  1. On the first weekend of each month, Amélie Lacroix would be a guest in the home of Lena and Emily Oxton
  2. For the duration of the visit, both Emily and Lena are the property of Amélie and she may do with them as she wishes
  3. Emily and Lena are to address Amelie as their mistress and owner, and obey her orders non-negotiably*
  4. *Everything is negotiable



Emily agreed to the terms without hesitation. Tracer after only about a moment. The couple waited a month, and finally the first Friday of April arrived. At 6PM sharp there was a knock at the door. Emily was in the bedroom changing, so Tracer answered the door.

Framed by the doorway was Widowmaker, dressed in a form-fitting dress which went to just above her knees, and a fur coat, slightly damp from London's weather. "Sorry I am late, cherie. I was held up at the airport."

"A-actually you're right on time."

"Which is half an hour later than I would have preferred." Widow stepped through the door and pressed her bag into Tracer's hands, shrugging her coat off of her shoulders and holding it out for Tracer to take. "Would you do me a favour and find a place for my things? I must go and attend to my omega."

Tracer flinched slightly at that, as Widow pushed past her and strode purposefully into the bedroom. Part of her wanted to stop Widowmaker there, confront her and call this whole thing off.

It was a small part of her, and utterly overwhelmed by the part of her that was rock hard and throbbing against her leg. She closed the door and turned around to see Widow dissappear into their bedroom. 

She hastened to stow Widow's coat and bag, already able to hear moans -  _ Emily's moans _ \- through the open door. Surely there had to be something wrong with her - an alpha getting off to the sound of another woman rutting with her mate - but Tracer couldn't bring herself to care. 

She quietly entered the bedroom and was hit by one of the most intoxicating scents ever to grace her nose.  _ Her mate _ was pinned to the mattress by the tall Frenchwoman, whose fingers of her left hand were buried knuckle deep inside of her. Tracer noted that she was half-in, half-out of their most expensive set of lingerie.

_ The ones she wore on our wedding night _ , observed Tracer.

"My word cherie, you are leaking like a fountain. Is that all for me?" Widow's face was addorned with a deeply satisfied smirk. She noticed Tracer in the doorway and leaned over to whisper in Emily's ear. Emily moaned, visibly drooling down her chin, and nodded breathlessly. Widow smiled and kissed her cheek, then turned to Tracer. "Emily would like you to remain outside. Close the door behind you. You have my permission to touch yourself."

That stung more than a little, but Tracer nodded and retreated from the room and closed the door behind her. No sooner had the bolt clicked into place than she heard a desperate sounding noise followed by something in French that she couldn't understand. She dropped to her knees and pressed her ear against the door, steadying herself with one hand and freeing her throbbing dick from its denim prison.

She immediately started to stroke herself, listening intently to the sounds coming from the bedroom. Mostly incoherent moaning, the occasional "Oh fuck" or "harder!". The scent that wafted through the cracks of the door drove Tracer wild.  _ Her _ omega, being fucked, being  _ bred _ by another alpha. It made Tracer's blood boil - though unfortunately most of that seemed to be flowing into her cock. Her animal instincts screamed at her to storm in there and throw Widowmaker off of her mate, and put a full litter in her belly before anything could stop her.

And the fact that she couldn't made her eyes roll back in her head, and her tongue flop out of her mouth as she rubbed herself off furiously and listened through the door to her once rival using her wife as a breeding toy.

"Oh, yes alpha!"

Tracer growled and felt herself twitch when she heard that. Why was her wife calling anyone else  _ alpha _ ?! Tracer should be the one in there fucking Emily right now. She knew it and it drove her nuts.

Tracer heard Widow's voice, low and unintelligible, but whatever she said made Emily's moans louder.

"Please oh please!"

"Please what?"

Emily whined, and Tracer tensed up as she felt herself getting close.

"Knot me alpha! Knock me up I want your pups!"

Tracer gasped and then came, painting the door with her humiliation and falling to the side. She heard Emily cry out, and Widow exclaim in French, and then for a minute there was no sound from the room. 

Tracer sat there, staring at her cum dripping slowly down the door. Part of her felt deeply disgusted with herself. Part of her was white hot with rage that another alpha had just knotted her wife. Mostly though? Tracer was still horny. Her cock hasn't softened after ruining the paint on their bedroom door, and her balls felt heavy.

She could do this all night.

The door swung open, and the smell almost knocked Tracer out. Her mouth hung open as she looked up at Widowmaker, standing over her. Her dress was hitched up around her waist, looking generally a little crumpled. Her cock hung between her legs, mostly soft but still almost half the length of her thigh, glistening with a mixture of hers and Emily's cum. She glanced at the mess on the door and her lip curled as she stared down at Tracer.

"Clean me."

Tracer obeyed without hesitation, leaning forward and laboriously dragging her tongue over every inch of skin, moaning as she tasted her wife on another woman's cock. 

Widowmaker smiled when she was satisfied Tracer was done, and pushed her to the side so she could step past. "Clean up your mess. Then, clean up your wife so she's fit for me to breed again. I am going to use your shower." Her voice remained totally level but her grin was broad and her eyes were positively evil. 

Tracer looked back into the bedroom to see Emily, legs splayed, panting, cum oozing from her pussy. She growled softly - her instincts told her she should rush in there and breed her wife, deny Widow's seed the chance to knock up her mate - despite the fact that Emily was on the best birth control money could buy anyway. 

But Tracer was enjoying this way too much. She suppressed those instincts, leaned herself against the door, and started to lick.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm imagining this going for about 9-10 chapters and then I'll cuck Pharah
> 
> Edit: I'm updating this fic to "complete" status. My phone broke while I was writing chapter 2 and I do most of my writing on the train, and a story only survives as long as it interests me. So this one is dead, sorry to anyone who was having a good time.


End file.
